Fighting For Our Forever: The Beaumont Series: Next Generation

by Heidi McLaughlin

  “No, I do, but I’m not sure I can find the words until my temper cools down.”

  “Fair enough,” she says.

  “Actually, I do have something to say.” When I look at her, I want to tell her that I love her, that I always have and have wished for years that things hadn’t ended between us, but they did, and at the time I thought it was for the best. I remember the nights when we were apart and I needed her, when all I wanted was to wrap my arms around her because feeling her pressed against my body made the world seem fair. And then I remember the night she showed up in Nashville and how I was hurting her and remind myself I made the right decision, even if it’s something I’ve regretted every day since.

  “Go ahead then.”

  I sit up straight, pressing my back to the wall. “Why can’t you just tell the truth, Whiskey? Why did you have to lie about us being married?”

  “Who says I’m lying?”

  Why does she want to play these stupid games? “Whiskey, you’re messing with our lives here. I could be on my way to wherever the hell I’m supposed to be by now if you would just tell Harvey that it was you who vandalized his house. And, while you’re at it, tell him that maybe he shouldn’t be such a dick to the next group of kids that do the same thing.”

  “Is that what you want? To get out of here so you can carry on with your life?”

  “I have obligations.”

  “Right, most of us do. It’s called being an adult.”

  My eyes cut to hers. “And you’re acting like a child, Whiskey. Harvey is going to figure out you’re lying, he’s going to think I put you up to it, and we’re both going to become Bubba’s bitch in jail.”

  She laughs, but there’s nothing funny about the situation. I stand and go over to the wall. There’s a small window at the top and I can just about see a glimpse of the sky. It’s bright blue with no clouds. A perfect day in my opinion.

  “What if I told you we’re still married?”

  I sigh. “I signed the papers, just like you asked. You were there; you watched me do it.”

  She stands again and moves to the opposite end of the cell. The space between us is small, but it feels like miles apart. Only God knows how much I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless. The slap in the face that would follow would be worth it just to feel her lips pressed against mine one last time.

  “I never signed the papers and I didn’t file them.”

  Her voice is small, nothing like the strong, confident woman I know.

  “What?” I ask. Her back is facing me and I’m waiting for her to turn around. “Whiskey, what did you say?” She turns slowly and looks at me. I’ve seen this before. It’s the face she makes before she breaks down and cries. “Jamie?”

  She smiles sadly. “The other night after I saw you, I pulled out a box of our stuff. I found your diploma, by the way, and if I had my purse, I’d give it to you. I thought that maybe you’d want that.”

  “Thanks.”

  She nods. “Anyway, there they were, at the bottom of my memories, folded up nice and neat. The only thing was, they were the originals, not the stamped copy you get back from the clerk after you file them… and lo and behold my signature was missing from them.”

  “Is that what you were doing earlier when I saw you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you were crying. Why?”

  “Because I’m stupid. Because life sucks sometimes. Because my dad can be a total jerk and as much as I hate you, you don’t deserve this.”

  Hearing her say she hates me makes my knees wobble. I grab hold of the metal bed railing and ease myself onto the bed. Deep down I knew she did but hearing her say as much is like a punch in my gut.

  “You should hate me, Whiskey. What I did to you, to us… I have never forgiven myself.”

  Whiskey sits down across from me and relaxes against the wall. “We were young, stupid—”

  “And in love,” I finish her sentence for her.

  “I was going to say naïve, but I suppose ‘in love’ works as well.”

  “I was naïve about life, still am sometimes, but I know without a doubt I was in love with you.”

  She repeats the word “was” quietly to herself. What she doesn’t know is that I’d profess my love to her without any hesitation if I thought it would mean anything to her. But I know it wouldn’t be fair to her, she has a life and I don’t plan to interrupt that for her.

  “So,” she says, rubbing her hands down the front of her legs. “Speaking of life, how goes it?”

  Nice change of subject, I’ll give her that and appease her request. “Life’s good.”

  “Yeah, big time drummer in a fancy band.”

  I smirk. “Band is anything but fancy and I’m just the drummer.”

  “Not according to Dhara. She says you’re on tour with the man of her dreams, 4 something. I honestly don’t pay attention when she starts talking about music.”

  “4225 West is who we’re on tour with. Their drummer is one of our lead singer’s dads.” She looks at me oddly and I shrug. “Made better sense in my head.” I look away, unable to keep my eyes on her out of fear that I’ll end up sitting next to her, begging her to give me another chance.

  “I’m sorry, Ajay.”

  “For what?”

  “For messing up your life like this. Your girlfriend, who, by the way, is hot… and I’m totally jealous of her tits… looked pretty pissed off when I blurted out that we’re still married. I suppose I’m screwing something up there as well. I’m going to tell Harvey that we need the decree signed off on right away so you can get on with your life. I’m sure the date is coming up soon.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask her once she’s done rambling.

  “Your wedding.”

  “What wedding? Who told you I was getting married?” I know exactly what she’s doing, and I have no intentions of stopping her. I like when she’s like this, flustered and digging for information without being bold enough to ask me outright.

  “I saw her ring. It’s gorgeous.”

  I look at her hand and see nothing, not even a tan line. I shouldn’t care, but I do. She’s right about Elle’s ring though. It’s big and flashy, and it makes me wonder if Whiskey thinks that could’ve been hers if we had stayed together. Thing is though, right now I can’t even afford that. With Sinful Distraction just starting, funds are still mediocre, but Elle promises us that things will get better. Our sales are increasing every day and royalties are starting to come in. I’m hoping that I can move out of Quinn’s house soon and into my own place. It’s not that I mind sharing with him and Nola, it’s that I want to finally have something that’s mine. Something I’ve paid for myself, with my own money. I’ve never owned my own anything. Even the car I drive is leased.

  “She comes from money,” I say with a shrug, letting her believe whatever her mind spins up. “Tell me about you. What have you been up to since I walked out on you?”

  Her eyes jump to mine but quickly turn away. I own what I did. I had no right leaving her like that, not after everything she had done for me. I think in my head, I planned to go back, but after seeing the ugly side of the industry, I knew I didn’t want her to experience what I was experiencing.

  “I work a lot.”

  “Boyfriend?” As much as I don’t want to know, I have to ask.

  “Yes, sort of.”

  “Is it one of those ‘we’re in a relationship’ type of things where you both pretend you don’t know what you want?”

  “When did you become an expert on relationships?”

  I shrug. “Since I joined the band and have to listen to mushy love songs. Answer the question, Whiskey.”

  “No,” she says, rolling her eyes. “He’s a Marine and is busy. It’s not serious in the sense that we’re moving in with each other or planning a life. We have fun. We see each other on the weekends if he’s free.”

  “Whiskey girl, are you afraid of commitment?”

/>   She mocks me. “Clearly after the number you did on me.”

  “Touché.”

  “Way to dodge my question about the wedding.”

  I shrug. “Talking about you is more fun. I missed this,” I point back and forth between us. “We always had good banter but amazing—”

  “Don’t you dare say it, Ajay.” She gives me a stern look. She’s right. Some things should stay in the past and this is the last place where I should recount our many sexual encounters and experiences, although going through them with her would be a nice trip down memory lane.

  “So, when’s the wedding?”

  “Don’t know.”

  Whiskey throws her hands up in the air. “You’re a lot of things, Ajay, but I never took you for the guy who leaves all the planning up to someone else.”

  I love this game of back and forth we’re playing and so I decide to up the stakes. I stand and go over to the cot she’s sitting on and take the spot next to her. Our arms and thighs are touching, and it feels like I’m being electrocuted from the energy moving between us. Fuck, how I missed how she used to make me feel so alive. She’s my muse and there will never be anyone else like her.

  “I don’t know because we’re not getting married. The woman who you are jealous of,” I purposely leave out the part about Elle’s boobs because one, she’s my boss, and two, I much prefer Whiskey’s over anyone else’s, “is the manager of my band, Sinful Distraction. The couple you saw with her are her parents. Her father is my mentor and drummer of the band Dhara likes. Her mother,” I pause again to gain some composure. “She’s been like a mom to me this past year.”

  “She has?” Whiskey’s voice breaks.

  “For the first time ever, I had a Christmas with a stocking and presents under the tree.”

  “And that brunette is your boss?”

  I nod. “Your dad thought the same thing and I didn’t correct him because it was better that you thought I had moved on. The notion backfired, however, when you dropped the bomb that we’re still married.”

  Because I’m not sure I’m willing to give that up.

  14

  Jamie

  Why do I feel so much relief from what he’s telling me? He had his first real Christmas, something I was never able to give to him and part of me wants to be petty and jealous. I want to tell him that if he had stuck around, he would’ve had many first holidays with me because I was his wife and we were a family. Yet, I’m so incredibly happy that he found someone to love him like a son because that’s all he’s ever wanted in life, to be loved. My mom tried, but he never felt at home with her. And as much as I don’t want to admit it, to hear he’s not getting married, that the beautiful woman is nothing more than his boss, relieves me. I’m happy and I shouldn’t be because what he does or who he’s with is none of my business. It stopped being my business when I asked him for a divorce even though it seems I wanted to keep his life tied to mine because I never signed or filed the damn papers.

  Before I know it, his thumb is rubbing along my cheek bone and my head is leaning against his hand. “Don’t cry, Whiskey,” his voice is husky and makes me long to get lost in the sound of it, to hear him call out my name and tell me that he loves me… that he needs me and that I’ll always be his one and only. But I can’t. That ship, the one that rocked us back and forth until it capsized, has sailed and is not one that either of us should be wanting to board right now. I stand and move away from him, wiping angrily at my tears.

  “Pate,” I yell to avoid the ever growing elephant in our cell. “Turn down your damn soap opera!” From behind me, Ajay chuckles.

  “Shut up, woman!”

  “He’s an ass,” Ajay says. He kept the TV volume so loud the night I was here I couldn’t sleep. Not that I really wanted to, though, because each time I closed my eyes I saw my life imploding.”

  Leaning against the bars, I reach behind me and grip them tightly. My hands need something to do because they’re itching to touch the man who is only a foot or so away from me.

  “Tell me about California.”

  Ajay sighs and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He’s dressed in a suit and looks dashingly handsome. The only time I ever saw him dressed up was for our prom and even then, he wore a suit from my dad’s closet. For our wedding, he wore jeans. I wore shorts. I should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

  “I don’t know, it’s a lot like North Carolina in a way. It’s hot but not overly humid. Too many people though. Beaches are crowded. Lots of surfers. And it’s pretty expensive.”

  “And the band? Is it everything you dreamed of?”

  He shrugs. “It’s tiring, rewarding, stressful and exactly where I want to be. Playing the drums is therapeutic for me. Knowing that someone is counting on me to do my part helps me get up in the morning. It gives me something to look forward to.”

  “You make it sound like Nashville saved you.”

  He hangs his head and is quiet for a moment. He takes a shuddering breath and looks forward. “After you lost the baby… something broke inside of me. I thought that I somehow failed you because I couldn’t take the pain that you were feeling away. I was suffering in silence, trying to bury my feelings. I know the experience is different for mothers because they carry the baby, but I wanted our child so badly because it would’ve been the best parts of you and to have another you in the world would’ve only made my life better.

  “Going to Nashville was a way to hide the pain, to take my anger out on a kit instead of yelling at you… to get drunk and forget about everything.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Not at first. I knew going there was a long shot, but I had to do something because the alternative was to quit us.”

  “Which you did anyway.”

  He nods. “Once I got there, I had every intention to come back to Bailey, pack up what little shit we had and hit the road. I had aspirations, and those only increased after I talked to other musicians. They told me stories about how they were making money, getting gigs right and left, how they travel with well-known solo acts. I was determined to land a gig until every place I stopped at slammed their doors in my face. I had nothing to offer these people except for an ability to play the drums, and we both know I was mediocre at best.

  “I had almost given up but the thought of coming back to Bailey to face your dad with no money in my pocket was making me sick. I couldn’t provide for you, no one was hiring here, and other than being able to bang on a drum, I had no skills.

  “I stopped at a bar that was just off music row and met a manager. He told me he’d give me a chance. That night you saw me, I was a week into a contract with him, and I signed it without reading it because I was so damn excited that I was finally earning some money to be able to provide for you. The fine print was clear, the band received half the gig money, divided equally. I was making a hundred or less a night, depending on who I was playing with while that bastard was taking the rest.”

  “I never cared about the money, Ajay.”

  He looks at me, his eyes are bloodshot, and his cheeks are wet. I do everything I can to remain where I am.

  “It wasn’t all about money, Whiskey. It was about eating, sleeping. While people in the bands had homes, I slept in alleyways. I ate one meal a day just so I had enough to buy new sticks because after a week they were so beat to shit, I needed new ones. Never mind the fact that groupies would try and steal them if I took my eyes off them for a second. I couldn’t provide for myself, let alone you. That night you came to Nashville, I wanted to run home with you, but I was stuck. I owed this man three years and there wasn’t any way he was letting me out of my contract, so I did what I thought was right and told you to go back home. I didn’t expect you to hand me divorce papers.”

  “You signed them without a moment’s hesitation.” His eyes meet mine and I see sadness, loss, and heartbreak. I’m not the only one who suffered even though I’ve felt that way. “Why didn’t you come back after your contr
act was up?”

  “I hooked up with a band and started making decent money. Still wasn’t a lot because we had to pay for our shitty van and gas as we traveled from gig to gig. I did that for a couple of years until I saw a flyer for a drum contest that was happening in Malibu. It was some charity event and by then I was pretty good with the drums so when our tour ended, I hopped on the Greyhound and went out to California. That’s when I met Harrison.”

  “Who’s that again?”

  Ajay smiles. “He’s the drummer for 4225 West and my mentor. It was his contest that I entered, a drum battle in the blazing sun. At night, I’d bathe in the ocean and sleep under the dock. Then get up and play the drums.”

  “Did you win?”

  This time he looks at me and smiles widely. “Yeah, I did. Winning that competition was a life changing thing for me. It’s how I met Elle and she put me in her band. And yet somehow now I’m back here and in jail with my Whiskey girl.” He winks and my insides turn to mush.

  “I’m really sorry for what my dad has done to you, Ajay. You don’t deserve it.”

  “But I do. I skirted my responsibilities to you. The only excuse I have is that I was young and so in love with you that I thought you were better off without me. I lived like a vagrant for a long time and that was no life for you.”

  “I could’ve worked, kept food on the table.”

  “At the time I had too much pride to allow or even ask you to do that. And your father…” he pauses and gathers himself. “After we eloped, he told me I better take care of you, that you were his princess and deserved to be treated as such. He said you had dreams and that I was to make sure they came true.”

  My mouth drops open as I listen to Ajay, realizing my father is likely the catalyst for him leaving me.

  “And then after you lost the baby, he all but blamed me and my ‘stupid music career’ for causing you stress.”

  I choke back a sob. “Your career wasn’t stupid and it’s not the reason I lost the baby, I just—”

  Ajay stands and walks to my side, pulling me into his arms. My head rests perfectly against his chest while his hand cups my head. I can feel his lips press into my hair as he tries to soothe me.